The Other Side
by Tales To Tell
Summary: He thought himself brave. He thought himself strong. And then he saw the monster in the house on Spinner's End. The summer after fifth year, a horrific incident shatters James's worldview. Disillusioned and painfully aware of the glass bubble he'd been living in, he begins to reassess his black and white judgement of the world, of himself, and of the boy he called Snivellus.


**The Other Side**

**Chapter 1**

When the giant muggle staggered out of the room, James stayed where he was, sitting on the floor of the closet, shaking, head tucked into his knees, fingering the chain around his neck. The image of the muggle's hairy cock hanging unabashed between his legs would haunt him for the rest of his life, but that was the mildest of the trauma.

He shouldn't have come here. He should've stayed at home. He should've just owled for directions. Then he could have gone on not knowing this kind of thing really happened. He would've been blissfully ignorant for the rest of his life. Now, he'd trade anything just to go back one bloody hour.

He raised his head and squinted through the crack in the door then quickly shut his eyes. He was still on the ground, not even trying to get up. Whip marks glistened where the welts had split open and oozed their contents down his back. He'd tried not to see, but James had seen the evidence, the blood on his legs that ran to his knees and stained his bunched-up rags. He couldn't even call them trousers.

A pair of pale scrawny legs and dingy pants flailing upside down flashed before his eyes.

Rancid bile shot up into his mouth and gushed between his fingers. This was hell or a nightmare or something. He was sick in bed and his mum was dabbing his forehead with a cool cloth. He wasn't in this muggle house hiding in a closet, sicking up over ratty trainers. He hadn't just seen what he'd seen, or heard it either. This just couldn't be real.

He peeked once more through the crack then shut his eyes again. He needed to get out of here, but he couldn't just go. He couldn't leave Snape like that. Not with the muggle still in the house. He could come back. He _would_ come back, James knew.

He wiped his hand on his clothes and pushed the door open, wincing as the hinges creaked. Snape still hadn't moved. James could hear him breathing slowly like he'd passed out. The wood floor groaned as he stepped toward him, and his breathing hitched. Snape clawed at the ground and with great effort turned himself over. James froze as coal black eyes worked their way from his feet to his face. They were wide and horrified, and James felt like the devil incarnate for evoking such a look.

He held his hands out as if to soothe a skittish beast. There was a moment of terrifying silence, then Snape spoke in a shredded voice.

"Potter?"

James nodded and took another step toward him.

Snape curled up with pleading arms outstretched. "No, no. Please no."

"Easy, Snape. I just want to help you."

"No. Get out," Snape cried and started to hyperventilate.

James's knees trembled as he watched him break down. "I swear, Snape. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help."

He stayed stock still until Snape calmed down enough to regulate his breathing and unfold himself.

"Don't look at me," Snape said, wheezing into the dirty floor.

James closed his eyes.

"Turn around."

James turned his back and stared into the closet. He heard Snape struggle with something. Dragging it. Then something scraped against something else and there was the click of a latch, maybe.

"Now turn back," said Snape. "Slowly. Keep your hands up."

James did as he was told. Snape had covered himself with his bedsheet, wrapping it around himself like a cocoon. All he'd left exposed were his pale face, smeared with tears and snot, a few greasy, sweaty locks pasted to it, and his right arm clutching a wand pointed at James. His aim was steady, but James doubted he could fire a jelly-legs jinx.

"Why are you here?"

James wanted to lie, but he knew Snape would see through anything he could conjure up right now, and he couldn't bear to do the slightest more wrong to him when things were already so wrong, so he just told him the truth. "I came to see Evans."

Snape's face went through a range of raw emotions, and James was surprised he could read every one of them. He was even more surprised when they settled on grief and his chest twinged in sympathy. He gritted his teeth and looked away as he explained.

"I heard her mention she lived around here. I was looking around the neighborhood but couldn't find her. I saw you and remembered you were neighbors or something, so I followed you to get to her. I thought she might live in one of these muggle rooms."

Snape sniffled as he digested the story.

James heard himself taunt _Snivellus_ and felt sick again.

"How did you get in?" asked Snape.

James took his cloak out of his pocket and showed it to him. "It's an—"

"Invisibility cloak," said Snape. "I knew it. I _knew_ it. That's how you…" He trailed off and his wand hand started to shake. "Just now, where were you?"

James's throat went dry. "What?"

"Just now. Were you in here when…" Snape's eyes moved from James's face to the open closet behind him. His face twisted in rage and his breathing sped up again. "You were… You fucking saw it?!"

"I-I…I didn't mean to."

"Get out!"

"I didn't mean to be there. I got stuck. Merlin. I—"

"Get out! Get out! Get out!"

A glass broke somewhere downstairs. Snape stopped shouting. He stopped breathing. He went completely statue still. His eyes, wide as plates, stared into James's which were just as wide.

"He's coming back?" asked James.

Snape twitched affirmative.

"We have to go."

"C-can't."

"I've got a portkey. I'll take you with me," James said.

Snape remained frozen.

Very slowly, James reached for his chain and inched closer, keeping his eyes locked on Snape's and the wand aimed at his head. The air was heating up with magical potential. Snape might not be strong enough for conscious magic, but with his emotions this heightened, accidental was bound to happen. James couldn't afford to get knocked out. Neither of them could.

"Relax," he whispered.

The wooden stairs just outside screamed under the heavy muggle's footsteps. James looked at the door then back at Snape.

"Don't shoot."

The door burst open.

James lunged across the room and threw his cloak over himself and Snape just as the muggle stomped in.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy sack of shit, or I'll…"

He pulled the pendant from his shirt and pressed it to Snape's bare skin.

"What the f—"

"_Portus_."

The broken home and the muggle spawn of demons spun away as James squeezed through a tube and popped out on his lawn, sprawled out on a heap of skin and bones and bloody sheets.


End file.
